With a snap of his fingers, the mess is gone. Almost as an afterthought, he snaps again, and the knocked over books right themselves in the corner and the vintage lamp is back on the nightstand, although he doesn't fix the obvious dent in the frame of the fringed shade.
A souvenir, he'll tell Crowley, if he asks about it.
He is indeed rendered breathless by those kisses, little gasps of 'love you, too' and 'can do whatever you like' all that he can barely manage. His hands rub firm strokes up and down Crowley's back, not wanting to neglect a moment of touching between them, finally settling over the swell of his buttocks. He squeezes there, affectionately, before lightly pinching a bit of flesh between thumb and forefinger.
"See, my dear boy?" Pure laughter bubbles out of him. "Not a dream at all."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-12-30 09:57 pm (UTC)A souvenir, he'll tell Crowley, if he asks about it.
He is indeed rendered breathless by those kisses, little gasps of 'love you, too' and 'can do whatever you like' all that he can barely manage. His hands rub firm strokes up and down Crowley's back, not wanting to neglect a moment of touching between them, finally settling over the swell of his buttocks. He squeezes there, affectionately, before lightly pinching a bit of flesh between thumb and forefinger.
"See, my dear boy?" Pure laughter bubbles out of him. "Not a dream at all."